Housemate & Hitman
by Mariam KJ
Summary: Alfred has secrets. Arthur goes out of his way to uncover them all. [USUK, Hitman AU (Credit to ask-hitman-jones on tumblr!) and implied smut. ] .:Published on Wattpad under the same username:.
1. Chapter 1

Rain pounded across the streets of Washington as the Investigator Arthur Kirkland made his way through the wet sidewalk. Police surrounded the Primveré* Avenue as troubled citizens were distanced from the scene. Arthur let himself under the police tape and stood next to the body. with blood splatted everywhere around the body, it truly was a horrific scene. Arthur kneeled before it, seeming to be examining it.

 **"Female. Looks about 16 years of age..."** Arthur trailed off, slowly looking up at an open window above the body. **"Cause: Fell to her death..?"** He seemed uncertain, until he saw the remaining body parts of the dead lady. On her stomach, the inevitable and unmistakable handwriting of Mr Jones.

 _ **HOPE YOU HAVE FUN WITH THIS ONE!**_

 _ **~ Hitman Jones**_

The words startled Arthur, but he'd experienced with this sort of case before. He had no reason to be scared, but the rotten and disheveling body that lay before him with those words scripted on her was a tad too much. He was dealing with a psychopath...

Upon his arrival back at the office he was working in for his visit, Arthur was greeted by fellow Investigator, but of another origin.

 **"Good evening, Monsieur Kirkland!~"** the Frenchman remarked, slightly smirking. It was at this point that Arthur realized he would hate it here.

 **"Yes, yes hello to you too, mate."** Arthur muttered, a little annoyed.

This other man introduced himself as Francis Bonnefoy*, and instead of letting Arthur live with him, he had rented out a house for him. Arthur was fine with it at first, but then there was the mention of a roommate.

Arthur spat out the tea he was drinking at the time, whilst Francis let out a chuckle. **"Come on, it won't be that bad, Monsieur Eyebrows!~"**

Arthur let out an offended sigh, covering his eyebrows and staring at Francis, frustrated. **"Th-They're not that big, you git."**

This arguing went on for about half an hour until it was a little bit too late. Francis offered to take Arthur home himself, but Arthur insisted that he was fine. Francis gave him his address in case something happened and they parted ways.

Arthur took a cab* to the given address. He was quiet for some of the ride, but then struck up a conversation with his cab driver, Kiku Honda. The Japanese man was happy to talk, but would rather listen. At the end of the ride, they exchanged numbers and went off on their own ways, once again.

In absolute awe, Arthur looked at the giant building. He was told it was a house, not a mansion...

 **"Bloody hell!"** Arthur thought-out-loud.

The front door opened to reveal a man not any older than Arthur himself. This man had honey-blonde hair and electric blue eyes hiding behind the white rimmed glasses he was wearing. His annoyed frown turned into a glowing smile.

 **"Hey dude! You okay?"** the man called out, causing Arthur to both blush and cringe.

 _*Primeveré - French word for Primrose._

 _*Cab - American word for taxi? I wouldn't know, I'm not American..._

 _*Francis Bonnefoy - France_


	2. Chapter 2

_**"Hey dude! You okay?"**_ _the man called out, causing Arthur to both blush and cringe._  
 _-_  
Arthur turned to him, annoyed and flustered. Looking down at the address paper to hide his face, Arthur whispered not meaning for the man to hear him.

 **"Mr Alfred F Jones..?"** Arthur looked back at the man hopefully. The man just grinned and gestured for him to come inside.

 **"Heck yeah, I'm Alfred! You must be Arthur, right?"** Alfred said, leading Arthur into the giant house. Alfred mainly talked on and on about the house; until they got to a certain door on their way to the living room. Alfred stopped abruptly and stood in front of the door.

 **"You're welcome to the whole house, except this room and the basement, okie dokie?"** Alfred said in a low voice, but cheered up towards the end on the sentence. Arthur was a little curious, he had to admit. But he didn't want to anger his housemate so early on.

 **"Alright."** Arthur mumbled.

Arthur didn't bother with anything else after that; he was too tired. After he had found his bedroom, Arthur quickly got changed and before he knew it, he fell asleep before his head hit the pillow. He woke up in the middle of the night; a little drowsy but he was awake. There was the sound of squeaking floorboards and what he assumed was wind. Arthur ignored it and decided to bother about it in the morning. That was, until the door of his bedroom slowly creaked open; with the footsteps of someone approaching his bed.

Scared half to death, keeping as still as he could, he pretended to sleep. He steadied his breathing so this figure (Most likely Alfred, he thought.) would go out and mind his own business.

Arthur heard the squeaking floor boards direct back at the door, signalling that the figure was gone. He let out a gasp, relived. Arthur shifted a little so he was facing the front. Looking up at the ceiling, he drifted to sleep...

 **~ SOMEWHERE ELSE ~**  
Alfred checked up on Arthur; he was definitely asleep. Creeping out his bedroom as quietly as possible, he navigated himself in the dark towards the front door. On the kitchen table he left a note for Arthur in case he woke up and did not find Alfred anywhere.

 **Yo Artie! Apparently I had to work the night shift at that new bar I'm working at. So I might not be here at night for some time!~**

 **~ Alfred**

Alfred was now at some dark warehouse far, far away from his house. He knocked on the door 4 times before a little crack in the door was revealed.

 **"Who the fuck is it?"** The familiar Italian accent spoke in an angered voice.

 **"Hey Lovino! It's your old buddy and pal Alfred!~"** Alfred called out cheerfully, intending to annoy the angered Lovino even more.

 **"Just get the fuck inside."** Lovino* mumbled, letting Alfred inside the seemingly abandoned warehouse.

 _*Lovino - Romano/Southern Italy_


	3. Chapter 3

_**"Just get the fuck inside."**_ _Lovino mumbled, letting Alfred inside the seemingly abandoned warehouse._

 **"Hey, isn't your brother and Ludwig supposed to be here?"** Alfred asked Lovino, turning to face the small Italian following him into the basement of the warehouse.

 **"My bastardo brother and his potato jerk friend finally got together."** Loving seemed annoyed, but his tone of voice showed he was happy for his brother.

Alfred just smiled and pushed open the seemingly large metal door.

Arthur tossed and turned throughout his sleep, before awaking abruptly. It had been at least 2 hours since Alfred had ventured into his room. He hoped it was Alfred anyway. Arthur fought his hunger for a few minutes.

Finally getting fed up, Arthur forced himself to get up and walk to his bedroom door. Opening it, he wandered out into the hallway, touching the walls for a light switch or door to the kitchen.

Coming across a familiar door, Arthur's curiosity got the better of him. He was standing in front of the room he was restricted from. Shuddering a little, Arthur shrugged and turned the handle of the door, trying to be as careful as possible.

Screaming could be heard from the street of Italiaque* Road. It was an abandoned and secluded area, which made it hard for anyone to hear the screams and shouting.

 **"P-Please don't h-hurt me!"** The man stuttered, trying to break free from Alfred's grasp.

 **"Sorry, buddy. I'm afraid I can't!~"** Alfred chuckled, tightening the rope around the man. He booped the shaking man's nose before racing back to his torture kit. Picking up an Iron comb*, Alfred examined the spikes. He placed his finger on the largest iron spike before he dug his finger into it. Blood trickled down his hand while he laughed. His laugh wasn't as happy as before though, but it was almost insane.

The man cried out, shaking and shaking while Alfred moved ever closer to him.

The Iron comb dug into the man's skin, scarring him mentally and physically. Alfred laughed maniacally with every swipe. The man cried for a few minutes before silencing himself. He was looming closer to his death and he knew it. This process of swiping and laughing went on and on until the man had hardly any blood to let out anymore. His skin was hardly there; bruised and scraped. To top it all off, blood covered the man and his surroundings.

After making sure he wasn't breathing anymore, Alfred went over to a leaky pipe by the man and washed his Iron comb of the blood. Content, Alfred skipped happily towards his victim, placing a note by his side.

" **As ever, no closer to solving the case..."** Alfred let out a small laugh before casually walking away from the rotting body. Happy with his work; he pulled out his phone to see that it was nearly 5am. Knowing that the police would be on the case as soon as they were notified by pedestrians, and also by the putrid smell of blood, Alfred decided to head home and tell Lovino he had finished up on the way.

 **"Oh..."** Arthur whispered to himself, looking at a particular picture of Arthur and his 3 older brothers. Why did Alfred have this picture?

Hearing a small click of the front door, Arthur's heart raced and he jumped out the door, forgetting to shut it behind him. His heart pounded while he tried to find his way through the hallways. Arthur slammed his door as quietly as he could and when he was sure that he wasn't followed, flopped onto his bed, completely exhausted.

He was only able to have a few minutes of peace before it hit him that he's found a picture of HIMSELF in Alfred's secret room. It creeped him out to no end. Arthur continued to mull over this until he heard a dull beeping from his phone. Sleepily turning over to pick his phone up, Arthur grabbed for it, accidentally falling to the floor in the process.

Answering the call, Arthur muttered to himself loudly. **"Bloody fuck!"**

 **"Are you okay, mon ami?"** Francis casually asked.

 **"What the fuck do you want, Francis?!"** Arthur yelled into the phone not caring that Alfred might have heard him.

 **"I'm not 'appy about the early wake up call either, Arthur. But, I was only told to notify you about the newest Hitman Jones crime if you were interested~"** Francis exclaimed, annoyed and excited.

 **"W-Wait, what?!"** Arthur stumbled over his words, concerned.

 _*Italique - Italic_  
 _I like that word for some reason._

 _*Iron Comb_  
 _An Iron comb is a torture device used to scrape the victim and relieve them of their skin. Nice, right?_


	4. Chapter 4

_**"I'm not 'appy about the early wake up call either, Arthur. But, I was only told to notify you about the newest 'itman Jones crime if you were interested~"**_ _Francis exclaimed, annoyed and excited._

 _ **"W-Wait, what?!"**_ _Arthur stumbled over his words, concerned._

Arthur clasped his hand over his mouth in disbelief upon arriving at the scene. It was 6AM, for fucks sake.

 **"Oh god..."** was all he could muster. Arthur gagged and attempted to look away from the mutilated body. What had this poor man done to deserve something like this?

The once-thought abandoned warehouse was littered with Police officers, Private investigators (including Arthur himself) and regretful pedestrians. Why those pedestrians were even allowed to step foot onto a crime scene was beyond Arthur.

He lightly shook his head and mustered up all the courage he had. Leaning forwards towards the body, Arthur found an almost blood-drenched note. Taking the note, careful not to touch the corpse, Arthur once again gagged. It was covered in the man's own blood and shavings of skin.

Arthur began to imagine what must have happened to the man to lose all of his skin and blood. Shaking the thought out of his head almost immediately, Arthur was tapped on the shoulder by someone. Thinking it was an onlooker or someone who needed comfort, Arthur faked a smile before turning to the said person. His smile dropped into a scowl as soon as he recognised the man.

 **"Francis."** Arthur said, turning away to the corpse. He would much rather see the body than that frog's ugly mug, he thought.

 **"Hello to you too, Arthur."** There was dismay in Francis's voice, causing Arthur to look back to the frenchman.

 **"Um... You okay there, buddy...?"** Arthur awkwardly patted his shoulder before waiting for an insult or response. Instead of what he expected, Francis just nodded lightly before turning away. Arthur felt a pang of sympathy for the man, even though he hadn't known the victim personally like Francis did.

 **~ SOMEWHERE ELSE ~**  
Alfred had arrived back home, only to find his Personal Room's door open. Had Arthur ventured into his room without his permission? No...

He wouldn't do that, right?

He respected Alfred, from what he had collected. He dismissed the thought, knowing it couldn't have been Arthur. **"I'm hungry, let's see what we have?"** Alfred opened his fridge and pulled out some supplies to make some pancakes. Special recipe that his Canadian brother had taught him.

Getting right to the cooking, Alfred wondered where Arthur had gone in such a hurry. He kinda missed him, though they had only met briefly. A continual ping from his phone woke him from his thoughts.

 **"Yo, Mattie! How's it goin'?** Alfred practically yelled into the phone, scaring his twin brother to death.

 **"No need to yell, Al. I can hear you perfectly fine, believe it or not."** Matthew* replied, as calmly and peaceful as he could. Alfred was annoying, but his brother at that. And there was no one he loved dearly as much as his brother, and only family, Alfred. Maybe Gil, but that was just a stupid crush. Matthew was sure that he'd get over the phase soon.

Alfred pouted at the sentence, it sounded much like what Arthur would say. **"Yeah, whatever. Why'd you call?"** He sounded frustrated and annoyed. Matthew knew not to get in his way when he felt like this. So being the nice and caring brother he was, he hung up. This would calm Alfred down, for sure.

 **"God."** Alfred looked down at his phone in annoyance. **"He only called to end up hanging up. Typical."**

After a few more hours, Arthur returned to the house. **"Are you okay, Artie?"** He heard Alfred walk up from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur tried to smile for what seemed like the 100th time that day, but Alfred saw right through it. **"Smile a little more naturally, won't ya'?"** Alfred grinned, looking down at the shorter boy.

Arthur looked up, shocked. **"Wanker."**

 **"Not as much as you."** Alfred returned, patting Arthur's head.

 **"Hey! That was such a predictable insult!"** Arthur shot back, trying to cuss Alfred but terribly failing at it.

 **"Mhm."** Alfred hummed, making his way to the kitchen. Arthur followed him, only to be greeted by the delectable aroma of Succotash* filling the room. Alfred just smiled at Arthur before finishing off the cooking.

In absolute awe, Arthur sat down and watched Alfred cook up the rest of the dish, as if hypnotised. He'd only known this man for a day, and yet he was impressed immensely by his skills.

Sitting down to eat, Alfred laid out the food. Cornbread & Succotash, with side dressings*. Arthur licked his lips, not noticing that Alfred noticed. Digging into the food, the pair enjoyed the meal along with small talk. Arthur gave Alfred the occasional glance, not sure as to what felt wrong.

The kidney beans that were in the Succotash were not normal beans. They were the remaining parts of the victim that Alfred had brutally murdered only the night before.

 _*Matthew - Canada_

 _*Succotash - A Native American cuisine. From what I've heard, it tastes fantastic._

 _*Cornbread & Succotash, with side dressings - I'm not quite sure as to what they would have with this meal._

 _~ { A/N;; Sorry for the awkwardly long chapter... I'll try and update this frequently. It won't be disbanded, that's for sure. } ~_


	5. Chapter 5

_The kidney beans that were in the Succotash were not normal beans. They were the remaining parts of the victim that Alfred had brutally murdered only the night before._

Before going to bed, the pair decided to watch a movie in the TV room. The sofa was oddly large, so both sat on either end of it. Arthur had been given the choice of what movie to watch whilst Alfred made popcorn and whatnot.

 **"What did ya' choose?"** Alfred said, flopping down next to Arthur.

 **"Hmm... Well, I liked the look of this one."** Arthur pointed to the DVD case in his hand. Alfred examined Arthur's face before looking down at the case. His grin turned to a frown almost immediately.

 **"Alfred? You okay there?"** Arthur said, patting a pale looking Alfred on the back.

 **"Y-Yeah."** Alfred looked fearful, but smiled all the same. **"What're we waiting for then?"**

Arthur shook his head before smiling. He put the DVD into the player and they began watching.

The entirety of the movie, Alfred was holding onto Arthur, much to his surprise. At every jumpscare, dripping of blood and slip of tension, Alfred would either scream or jump.

Arthur ended up trying to convince Alfred that Freddy Krueger was a fictional character and nothing more.

 **"R-Really?"** Alfred squeaked, only a little ray of hope in his electric blue eyes. Arthur just stared at him in disbelief and got up from the sofa.

 **"I'll be off to bed then. Good night, git."** Arthur said, smiling behind his shoulder. Alfred shuddered and followed him to their bedrooms hallway.

Alfred couldn't sleep. He was awake for at least 2 hours, scared of the movie they have watched previously. He was an assassin, a hitman for goodness sake. He couldn't be scared of this kind of thing!

Picking up his pillow, he edged his way through the darkened bedroom and into Arthur's.

 **"A-Arthur?"** Alfred whispered, his light voice echoing through the house.

No response. Alfred's eyes widened as his breathing hitched.

Shifting over to face Alfred, Arthur murmured something in his sleep. Alfred held his breath in before reassuring himself he was asleep. Lightly nudging Arthur, he waited for him to wake.

Arthur woke abruptly after an overpowered poke to his cheek. **"A-Alfred?!"** Arthur practically screamed, causing Alfred to back away.

It was silent for a few minutes, Arthur staring at Alfred and Alfred staring at Arthur. Deciding to speak up, Alfred coughed and gave Arthur a weak smile.

 **"Dude... I was wondering if you... You would let me..."** he gestured to the bed Arthur was sitting on. His face lit up immediately and blushed heavily.

 **"G-Git!"** Arthur stuttered, covering his face with his bedsheets. Alfred simply tilted his head sideways and cracked up laughing.

 **"D-Dude! You thought I was gonna..!"** Alfred said between chokes and laughs. Arthur leaned towards Alfred and punched him playfully on the shoulder before lying back down.

 **"Good night, wanker."** Arthur smirked, fake yawning. Alfred jumped onto Arthur's bed, startling him.

 **"What the bloody hell?"** Arthur said, staring at the sad American before him.

 **"W-Well... I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight?"** Alfred hid his face from Arthur. Instead of laughing and making fun of Alfred, Arthur smiled and patted the space next to him.

Alfred's electric blue eyes lit up, and hugged Arthur was hard as he could.

 **"Thank you so much, Artie!"** Alfred said, almost choking the small Brit.

 **"I-Idiot! You're killing m-"** Arthur was cut off when he realised how close he was to Alfred. Their faces almost touching, Arthur shoved his hand up to his face, protecting his blush.

Alfred just shrugged and settled down next to Arthur. When Arthur kept still for quite some time, Alfred shook him.

 **"Arthur? You okay, buddy?"** Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear, causing the Brit to blush harder;; if that was even possible.

Alfred had slipped into a Southern Accent* and ended up turning Arthur on when he talked. Arthur felt ashamed, but also excited. How did this man make me feel the way he does?

They slept after that, content and exhausted. Every so often Alfred held onto Arthur, kissing his neck absentmindedly. Arthur returned the gestures by giggling in his sleep. This went on and on until the morning sun had risen.

 _*Southern Accent - I believe in the headcannon of America having an accent as such when he is sleepy or tired._


	6. Chapter 6

_They slept after that, content and exhausted. Every so often Alfred held onto Arthur, kissing his neck absentmindedly. Arthur returned the gestures by giggling in his sleep. This went on and on until the morning sun had risen._

The morning sun shone brightly through the curtains, waking Arthur up. Blinking a few times, he shifted around to face the other side of the room. But, on the other side of him, was a sleeping Alfred. Arthur yawned before realising ALFRED was in his bed.

 **"H-How?!"** Was all Arthur could stutter. He whispered it, careful not to wake Alfred. The memories flooded back into his mind, making him sigh.

Arthur smiled before placing a kiss on Alfred's head. Arthur held his hands to his lips as he repeatedly called himself in a idiot. He then proceeded to run out the room and leave Alfred sprawled across his bed.

The burnt smell of scones wafted through the air, causing Alfred to scrunch up his face in discomfort. Noticing he was not in his own bedroom, he blushed before the smell of fire hit him like a brick.

Running into the kitchen with a fire extinguisher in hand, Alfred found the room filled up with smoke.

 **"Artie?!"** Alfred yelped, terrified. The smoke slowly cleared, revealing Arthur hunching over the stove. He glanced behind him, only to find the bewildered and somewhat scared face of Alfred.

 **"Alf-"** Arthur was cut off once again by Alfred dropping the extinguisher, making a loud noise.

 **"I'm going back to bed."** Alfred said, frowning and heading back into the hallway. Arthur just shrugged and went back to adjusting his overcooked scones.

Later on in the day, Arthur headed to work mentioning something about 'punctuality' and so. Meanwhile, Alfred was figuring out new ways of getting out the house and to work. Without Arthur knowing.

Arthur would surely hate him if he found out about Alfred's job.

 _But hey, people need a way to get around in this cruel world, right?_  
 _-_  
 **"Arthur, mon ami!"** Francis called out, reaching his hand out to Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur smirked and shrugged his hand off. **"How's the frog doing?"** Arthur asked, crossing his arms and snuggling into his scarf.

 **"Much better than you, I suppose."** Francis replied, digging his hands into his coat pockets. The weather was funky this year, it was only Autumn yet it felt like late Winter.

Arthur drifted into his own thoughts, his mind wandering back to yesterday's events. He had little memory of what happened after Alfred joined him in his bed.

 _The photos._

Arthur mentally cursed at himself. Why did he forget that?!

He walked into the offices with Francis, who was also in his own world. Probably dreaming about ladies and that kinda stuff.

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts as he settled into his armchair, slowly taking his coat and scarf off. As soon as he unwrapped his scarf around his neck, he heard the soft laughter of Francis next to him.

 **"What is so funny, that not even you can hold it in?"** Arthur fumed. After Francis was done with his half crying-half laughing thing, he pointed to his neck.

Arthur looked down at his neck to find small pink marks scattered across it. He blushed, remembering it was probably Alfred.

 _Alfred._

When realisation dawned on him, Arthur knew that it was not normal for people to just do that to each other. But then again, Alfred made everything feel right.

The worst part was, that Arthur didn't even feel ashamed. If anything, he felt happy and slightly aroused.

And so, for that whole work day, Arthur made it his priority to be nice to his colleagues. This lead to them thinking he was possessed.


End file.
